


the days are growing shorter (the day is almost done)

by somewherealight



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Angst, Gen, Past Character Death, Time Travel, Unhappy Ending
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-15
Updated: 2020-04-15
Packaged: 2021-03-01 22:20:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,859
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23614399
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/somewherealight/pseuds/somewherealight
Summary: Noctis time travels back to the morning he left Insomnia to try to change the past.
Relationships: Noctis Lucis Caelum & Regis Lucis Caelum
Comments: 4
Kudos: 42
Collections: FFXV Book Club 2020 Spring Exchange





	the days are growing shorter (the day is almost done)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [InkTail](https://archiveofourown.org/users/InkTail/gifts).



> Written for Inktail, who requested some time travel whump. I hope you enjoy reading this <3

He blinks and he’s in the Citadel, the morning he left.

It’s bright. His room at the Citadel is flooded with sunlight from the floor-to-ceiling window behind him, and even with his back facing it, his eyes hurt a little from the sudden adjustment. He’s sitting at the edge of his bed, feet on the floor, his black fatigues brand new instead of faded and fraying. He remembers being here, rummaging through the nightstand for his wooden Carbuncle charm to take with him. 

The rumblings of the train and the sound of Prompto’s voice coming through the cabin door are gone now, ringing in his ears like a phantom pain. He looks down and sees a fluffy tail and bright, intelligent eyes—Umbra, studying him. 

He’s never come back this far before. He’s tried. He’s asked Umbra dozens of times to take him back here, back to the summer after graduation or the beginning of this year or any damn time before this road trip from hell, but Umbra’s always just sat there staring up at him, tipping his head slightly to the side as if trying to understand.

He doesn’t know what’s different this time and he doesn’t want to risk wondering, just in case that breaks the spell and brings him back to the train where Luna’s dead and Specs is blind and Gladio hates him and he can’t muster up the energy to even talk to Prompto.

Umbra looks at him steadily for a moment, then turns and trots off, leaving him alone. He sits there for a second, at a loss.

His dad. He has to talk to his dad.

He closes his fingers around the wooden Carbuncle charm in his palm, sends it to the Armiger, and stands, trying to think back. His dad was in meetings all morning on this day, both private and with the Council, and he was only barely able to break away from the preparations for the treaty with Niflheim to even give Noct the formal send-off. Noct remembers how he told his dad it wasn’t necessary, then after his dad had insisted, he’d kept the whole event as short as he could, and his stomach turns.

“Noct? Everything all right?”

Noct starts and looks up and there’s Ignis standing at the door, fatigues impeccably pressed for the send-off and sharp green eyes perfectly clear. 

Guilt smothers him. 

“Um, yeah. I’m fine,” he says quickly. If he doesn’t leave, maybe that will be enough. The Citadel won’t burn, his dad won’t die, Luna won’t die, Ignis won’t have to give up his eyesight just to protect Noct’s stupid unconscious self at the altar of the Hydraean. “Do you know where my dad is right now?”

Ignis steps into the room, brow wrinkling slight with worry. “I believe he’s in a meeting with Captain Drautos. You’re a bit pale. Are you feeling well?”

“Yeah, I feel fine. He’s in his office, right?”

“I believe so, but he—”

“Thanks.” Noct slips past Ignis’s searching eyes and into the hallway. “Be back in a little bit.”

“Noct—”

Noct waves but doesn’t look back, offering a silent mental apology for this and all the other times he’s blown Ignis off. He can’t waste time here, no matter how much he wants to. He glances at his phone as he enters the elevator and keys in his passcode to take him to his dad’s office level. 10:17. A little under two hours before he’s scheduled to leave. That should be plenty of time. 

The elevator dings and the doors slide open. Noct steps out into the hallway, feeling weirdly disconnected to everything around him. It all feels distant and far away, something like a memory even though he knows he’s here right now. He reaches across with one hand and pinches his arm, hard, just to be sure. The days are passing by in blurs and blips now, and he’s gone back so many times that sometimes he can’t remember when he is and which timeline is the real one.

He approaches his dad’s heavy oaken office door and nods at the Glaive standing there, grateful that it’s not Clarus or he might not even get in. He doesn’t remember the Glaive’s name, and it wakes another cold wave of guilt in the pit of his stomach. He’s seen him around before this, but he wasn’t a part of the training crew, and he’s old enough that he finished his training long before Noct started his. Noct wonders if he made it out alive.

“Do you know when he’s supposed to be done?” he asks when he’s close enough, keeping his face neutral.

“Uh, 11 o’clock, Highness.”

That’s longer than he wants to wait. He grabs the door handle and pushes his way in, ignoring the Glaive’s protest.

The conversation stops dead as he walks inside and lets the door close behind him.

“Noctis,” Regis says, and Noct can see the concern in his eyes past the unmoving mask of his royal demeanor.

“Your Highness,” Drautos says, standing.

Noct nods at him, realizes it’s a little brusque but it’s already done, then looks at his dad. “Your Majesty. May I speak with you?”

Regis looks at him, then at Drautos, and leans forward at his desk. “Let’s take a recess, Captain. Ten minutes should suffice.”

Drautos glances to Noct and gives him a look he can’t decipher, then dips his head towards Regis and leaves the room. Noctis waits for the door to close and then approaches the desk. 

“I want to postpone the trip. I want to be here for the peace treaty signing.”

Regis studies him for a moment before answering with a single word. “No.”

It’s what he was expecting. His dad knew what was going to happen and sent him away. Noct’s known for weeks now, since meeting Cor at the Tomb of the Wise, and the rage and betrayal he felt then starts to boil up again. He thumps down into the chair that Drautos vacated and looks up at his dad. “Why?” he asks, baiting. 

Regis narrows his eyes. “It’s a term of the treaty. We’ve discussed this at length, Noctis.”

“I know the treaty’s a lie. I know you’re just trying to get me out of here before there’s an invasion.”

Regis leans back and is silent for a moment. “My answer is still no.”

Noct clenches his fists and it’s all he can do to keep himself from slamming them onto the desk. “Then at least start an evacuation! Get everyone out of the city!”

“There’s no time. It would cause mass panic, and more lives would be lost.”

“People’s lives are going to be lost if you don’t do anything!”

Regis’s expression steels. “There is a greater risk if I show my hand by ordering an evacuation, even quietly. Don’t think I make my decisions lightly. I won’t change my mind.”

“I just won’t go, then.”

“Yes, you will,” Regis says, and his voice has changed.

Noct hates that tone. It’s the tone he uses whenever he’s at court, or when he’s faced with insubordination. It’s an order from a king to one of his subjects, and Noct is the subject.

It means the discussion is over, and whatever argument he had is a lost cause.

Noct wants to scream. 

“I didn’t want this to cloud your departure,” Regis says in a gentler tone.

“Well it’s damn well going to,” Noct growls before he can stop himself. “Did you think it was going to _better_ for me to wake up on the other side of the continent to every single news source telling me you and Gladio’s dad and Iggy’s uncle and both of Prompto’s parents and half of the _entire city_ is dead and the only thing left is a smoking pile of rubble?”

Regis’s face registers surprise, followed swiftly by pain. “Noctis—”

“You could at least tell me what I’m supposed to do. You could say _something_ . _Anything!_ The _least_ you could do is actually say goodbye!” Noct can feel his eyes burning but he blinks, refusing to let tears gather. The last thing he wants to do right now is start fucking crying in front of his dad. He looks away, trying to scrape together whatever bare minimum of composure he had at the beginning of this conversation.

“Noct.”

Noct doesn’t look up. He can’t, not without betraying everything he’s been through since he first lived this day, the weight threatening to crush him, the grief that’s devouring him from the inside out. 

“Noctis.” Regis’s voice is quiet, but firm. “If I could do anything to relieve you of the burden you must carry, I—” he breaks off suddenly and clears his throat, then continues, voice rough, “—I would do anything. But my time is over. It falls to you.”

Noct’s chest hurts. He grits his teeth and his words fall out of his mouth, heavy. “I’m not ready for any of this.”

“If I know you, Noctis, I know that will not stop you.”

Noct looks up. He can see the exhaustion in his father’s eyes, the tension in the way he holds himself due to chronic pain. There’s a fierceness to his smile (and bitterness, Noct thinks), but also pride.

“Dad. I—”

The door swings open, and Regis straightens, the father disappearing and the King reappearing in its place. Noctis hears Drautos’ footsteps falter and stop. 

“I’m sorry, your Majesty, I can—”

Noctis wants to tell him to leave, the meeting’s canceled, take care of whatever the problem is on his own, but Regis answers first.

“No need, Captain. We were nearly finished.”

He looks at Noct, but Noct stands up before he can say anything else. His mouth tastes like ash. “Goodbye, Dad.”

Regis nods. “See you at noon.”

Noct doesn’t respond. He turns away, pushes past Drautos, and leaves the room.

The Glaive whose name he can’t remember says something to him, but he doesn’t know what it is. He’s halfway to the elevator before he realizes that his phone is ringing in his pocket. He stops and takes it out, looks at the screen.

Specs. Probably wondering where the hell he is. He puts his phone back into his pocket.

What the hell is he supposed to do now? Live through all of this again? Leave Insomnia with his retinue and wait for the Citadel to burn?

A soft tapping approaches from the elevator and Noct looks up to see Umbra padding towards him. He stops in front of Noct, looking up at him.

The world twists and disappears.

He’s standing in the middle of the darkened sleeper cabin him and Prompto share. The train is rumbling on beneath him, taking them farther away from Lucis and Accordo and closer to Niflheim. Outside, he can hear Prompto’s voice asking him if he’s okay.

He doesn’t answer.

He drops into the bottom bunk and curls into himself, shutting his eyes. There’s no tears left to cry anymore. He’s just tired. He lets himself get lost in the endless roar of the train, and wills himself to forget.

**Author's Note:**

> No, he's not okay.


End file.
